Leverage, position, advantage - As Natural as Breathing (Abyss)

[Darth Ophidia]

Tython, a planet drenched in history of the Force. Now claimed by the Sith, it was permeated by a lingering darkness it has not seen before. It was their burnt pearl, a jewel of spite brandished against their arch enemies. This lingering sensation of vengeance always brought Darth Ophidia to a sense of calm alertness. On her visits there, she always felt purpose in her dedication to the Dark Side. As such, it was also a place she liked to bring her apprentices once she thought them to be mentally prepared for the sensation.

Awaiting the arrival of her student, the Rattataki Sith Lord wandered the ruined remains of a once grand temple to Ashla. Once it had hosted younglings, now only ghosts wandered its halls; it was death-touched. Pale moonlight, crested by sparkling stars, pierced through the blue-tinted clouds to caress fallen structure. The Sith Lord lifted her chin and exhaled as she drank in the atmosphere. A heavy, dark robe draped her slender form, making her seem much like a dark column in the moonlit scene. Within, her dress was far shorter, shaped for swordplay.

Dead grass and loose stone crackled under the soles of her shoes as she shifted her weight from one step to another. Still, her footfalls were soft like the passing of fog, uncanny in their fluency. These were the steps of one who had mastered the Contention Form: One of her intended lessons of the night.

[member="Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Another lesson. Abyss hunger for knowledge grew stronger every meter he came closer to the surface of Tython, reaching the point were it was almost impossible for him to focus on something else. Still he forced himself to continue with his training as the ship he was on came close to the atmosphere of the planet. He had his legs crossed, using the force to keep a book about Tython, that he was reading, floating in the air like he did on the whole way to prepare himself mentally and spiritually for the lesson that was about to come. As the ship entered the atmosphere he grabs the book mid air, storing it on the ship, getting ready to meet with his master.

The young man could feel the darkness around him the moment he made his first step on the planets surface. He followed to path to the temple towards his master, his robe looking even more torn and tattered than at the time of their first meeting. Illuminated by the moon his grey skin made him look like a dead man walking as he the hooded figure wandered, his steps strong and dedicated but without any grace or elegance.

After a few minutes he could see a figure not far away. For a moment Abyss was not even sure if it was his master, the silhouette looking taller and heavier than normally. As he came closer he could say for sure that it was his master, only wearing another attire than he would have expected. The acolyte slightly bows in front of his master before talking.

"Master. I am here for what you want to teach me."

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

She felt him approach. His thirst for knowledge was like a constant pull and his budding proficiency in the dark side of the Force sparked with phantasmal electricity. His steps echoed in her ears as he came closer, but she paid him no heed. Rather, she remained in stillness, watching, sensing, taking in her surroundings until his words cut the tension of the air.

"Apprentice. You have carried the weapon of our caste for long. It is time you learned how to properly use it."

Her eyes opened fully, revealing the burning orange of her irises as they contrasted against the ashen hue of her skin under the shade of her heavy cloak. With a shrug of her shoulders, she cast off the heavy fabrics. On either side of her hips she wore a curved hilt of identical designs. They were simple, elegant, yet showed obvious signs of use.

"Your weapon, it is old."

Her right hand stretched out against Abyss' lightsabre hilt as she drew in the sensation it gave off. The Sith Lord could feel the hatred like a cold vibration. It was tainted with a desire for vengeance.

"Not yours, I presume. Family heirloom? Or perhaps it was a gift"

[member="Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Its been a long time since Abyss thought about the day he got the weapon he wielded, but the memory was still as clear and vivid as the day after. The death of his father. The lightsaber hidden under ancient stone. The moment he felt the darkness for the first time, as he slaughtered the murderers of his father. He takes the hilt of his belt to make is easier for his master to observe it. The time the weapon was left to rot in an old sith grave took his toll, the parts stopped working properly a long time ago. The acolyte looked at the weapon for a long moment before he gave an answer to his master:

"Neither. It was lost in the grave of sith long forgotten. One day it ... it called for me. It showed me the darkness inside me. It guided my hand to kill those that opposed me. Without it I would never had walked the path of the dark side."

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

One of the areas on which there would be an eyebrow if she had hair, raised itself in a moment of curious contemplation at the story of how he came upon the weapon. Artefacts of the Force had a way of putting people upon a path.

"I would call that a gift. Perhaps not wilfully given by its owner, but given to you by the Force and by destiny. The gift is not just a blade, but a chance at becoming the most powerful being in the universe."

She took two fluent steps back, kicking the heavy cloak to the side as she went. One of the two curved hilts at her side snapped into her right hand while her left rested behind her back. With a furious snap-hiss, a crimson blade erupted. The bloodshine blade painted the greys and blues around them with an impassioned red.

"Draw, apprentice, and show me how you wield your gift."

She raised the plasmic blade before her face before being pointed diagonally down at the stony ground.

[member="Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss had heard more then once about the way a sith master would teach his apprentice. He knew that it was almost impossible for him to even come close to land a hit on her, and that this lesson could bring him a lot of pain. Other than some acolytes he had accepted that this way was the way of the sith, and that only pain and struggle would give him the power and knowledge he desired.

The red glowing blade ignites in the right hand of the acolyte, resting in the air for a moment before Abyss points the weapon at the ground mimicking the stance of his master in front of him. He was never taught how to fight with a lightsaber, but when he had to cross blades with a jedi at the battle of coruscant he was forced to figure out how to perform the few moves he had seen in books. His main focus back then was on his footwork to avoid hits while trying to outsmart his opponent, but he knew that this was not an option against a dark lord, not even in a training fight. He lifts the weapon in the air, using mainly his wrist to attack his master with a quick diagonal swing from the right side. The attack followed the basic knowledge he had about from two, recreating the movement the weapon should have, but lacking the finesse and nuances of someone who learned the form properly.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

As the swing came in, the Sith Lord stepped back with her left foot and leaned on it, swaying her body out of the way of the blade's reach. Her right elbow bent, pulling the blade up while she rotated her wrist, bringing the blade up as she shifted her weight to her front foot and threatened to either nick the sword arm or pierce the throat, depending on his reaction. However, she refrained from touching his skin with the blade. They had much to go through.

It was not the most basic, nor the most advanced response on the Form II repertoire, but it sufficed for judging his reaction. She had received reports of Abyss' performance on Coruscant. Now she wished to see it for herself. His footwork and clever application of the most basic elements of the form. Only then could she shape him as a duellist.

"Don't resign to loss already, apprentice. It is insulting."

[member="Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss looked at the glowing red blade that was aimed at his throat, his expression a combination of anger and confusion. He fought that his master would punish him for every wrong move, so he would learn how ro reach perfection but instead she gave him another chance. Maybe he was wrong and this was not just a test to determine his skills with a lightsaber, but a test of his fighting abilities over all. Other than on coruscant he could not do anything with the force that his master couldn't counter easily. So he would have to fall back to unorthodox ideas to show her that, even with his lack of mastery over his weapon, he was still a capable fighter.

He takes a step back, his right foot slighty closer to her than his left and grabs the hilt of his weapon with both hands. The red blade moves in a wide swing from the left side towards his master stomach. Seconds before the weapon came close to her body, he turns the lightsaber of, using the monument of the attack for a kick aimed at her knee instead.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Corporeal punishment had its uses, but to a studious type such as Abyss, insult was far more effective. By not hitting him, she had placed herself higher and him lower; he was not worth punishment. She could sense this taking effect as he seethed with anger and confusion. The Dark Side of the Force fed on such emotion, but the Way of the Ysalamir required attention and focus. She wanted to test him in this as well. Would he lose his temper and attack without thought?

His switch of style was quick, but she caught on. As he came with his two-handed swing, she stepped back to gain distance. Holding her weapon in one hand and keeping her side presented, she could outmatch him in reach. However, she briefly underestimated the craftiness of an underdog. Her eyes narrowed as she moved to parry his blade and riposte; something was wrong. She caught the movement of the thumb. Trakata. Her hands were already committed to the parry, but she was able to turn her leg and avoid the brunt of his kick. Her stance shifted as she moved her weight off the kicked leg and pivoted to regain her stance with the other shoulder forward. A smile grew on her lips. Inventive, she would give him that much.

[member="Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss was almost surprised that he was able to hit is master, in his mind he had assumed that she knew about his trick before he even raised his weapon. With his success he had now an disadvantaged: He might was able to surprise her once, but now she knew what kind of fighter he was and a simple trick like this wouldn't help him in his next attack. The acolyte ignites his lightsaber once more, taking a small step back. His mind was racing, trying to find an angle or a bluff she couldn't predict.

He moves his right leg back while simultaneously scanning the environment for anything that could give him an advantage. He pulls the lightsaber back to have enough room to gain momentum, while moving his left hand up in the air in a fluid motion, diverting his focus on the force to push gravel and small pebbles from the ground towards her face to distract from a stab forward that was aimed at her chest.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Fool me once. She would not fall for two consecutive bluffs, but did admire the tenacity and creativity of his combinations. Her previous shift in stance had set her left shoulder and free palm forward and the lightsabre brought back. Seemingly, she was at a disadvantage, but every stance had its strengths.

As the gravel was thrown in her face, her front hand pulled to the left and tore the gravel out of its path. Following the motion, her left foot stepped back, pulling her sword-hand forward to parry the incoming blade-tip. With a movement of her wrist, she redirected the thrust without directly opposing it. Rather, she cut into his thrust and added to his momentum in an attempt to make him overextend and lose balance.

After redirecting the gravel, she pulled her left hand close to her side. Then, following the parry of his thrust, she squared her hips to him and presented a single clenched fist in the direction of where she estimated his mouth to end up. The motions seemed quite effortless, as though she was merely demonstrating. Yet, there was a power and swiftness to them. Each motion carried over to the other with efficient fluency, almost as though in a dance.

[member="Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood after the fist of his master meet his jaw. He had already lost most of his balance after she redirected his lightsaber, and the hit made him stumble backwards. Yet a small smile appeared on his face. This time she had punished him what meant that he had not completely failed her expectations. Pain was the way of the sith, and only pain would lead him to greatness. The punch made him slightly disoriented but not anywere as much as he displayed on the outside. Hiding the own strength would grant him a little advantage in his next attack.

He was still stumbling back, forcing his face to show a pained expression. From the outside it looked like he was still struggling to regain his balance, while actually je was already preparing his next move. With a sudden push forward the acolyte moved all his weight towards her, raising his left hand in the air, the tips of his fingers aimed at her eyes with the intention of blinding her. He used hus right hand to keep his balance, swinging the lightsaber towards her legs, more to divert her attention from his other hand to the red glowing blade without really planning to hit her.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Excited; she may have gotten a little carried away with her counter. Even if it was a step down from her more lethal combinations, it was not adhering to the plan. The ring of battle tickled her ferver, but she neededed to maintain control. Sith were not only disciples of the Dark Side, but pilots of its immense power. She held the metaphorical beast by the throat; a true Sith was in control.

On most, the acting and feinting would probably have given him an edge, but he had already feinted her once. She would not fall for such tricks twice in a row. She did not interpret his pained expression, but tapped into the ebb and flow of the fight. When he came forward, she mirrored his movement. Her right hand extended down, creating a static barrier against his blade while her left hand darted up to snatch his fingers and attempt bend them back against the joints. Experience was on her side; Experience as a pit-fighter, a mercenary, an assassin for the Sith.

[member="Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

He might had risked a little bit to much with his last move. The momentum of his push forward made it even more painful when she bend his hand backwards, while blocking his lightsaber without even thinking about it. Again there was pain, once again he had pushed her to the point were she had to hurt him instead of insulting his weakness. It was a small victory but for him it was all he needed to continue. Using the pain to fuel his anger, Abyss let out a pained cry while still standing in front of her his hand locked in hers and his lightsaber uselessly pushing against hers. No trick could help him now, to free himself he had to take a risk again and fall back on simple and raw violence.

Pulling his head back as far as he could while still being locked in her counter, Abyss lockes his eyes onto her head. With all force he could create he swings his head forwards, trying to push his forehead into her face. It would hurt him as much as it would hurt her, but a little bit of pain in trade for the opportunity to free himself and continue the fight on his own terms seemed like his best option.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Animus Malgus, once Darth Ophidia's first apprentice, had a trick with which he managed to wound his master once: Force Shout. Since then, she had become aware of the head as a limb capable of delivering quite devastating attacks. While what Abyss was attempting to deliver was something a little more primal, it was no less a threat. Her response lay in the foundation of all martial arts and the Contention Form more than most: Footwork.

When Abyss cocked his head back, she slid a leg out to the side and shifted her weight in its direction. As she moved her weight, she also jabbed the bottom of her lightsabre hilt towards her apprentice's abdomen in a light jab. Swiping her other foot in a narrow arch, she pivoted to face the same way as the Acolyte. As she turned, she pulled on the fingers she had twisted. Her grip, empowered by the Force, was unnaturally tight and her movement carried more momentum than one would presume such a slender figure able to create. Putting her entire body-weight behind the pull, she gave him a simple choice: Follow and fall or stand and break.

Should he fall, then he would find the tip of her lightsabre would soon come to rest next to his cheek while the burning ember-eyes of the Pale stared down at him.

[member="Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss almost hadn't noticed the movement of his master as his focus by blinded by rage building up from the pain. It was even harder for him to figure out the meaning of her movement in this state so he could react properly. His thoughts raced, showing him a dozen of different things his master could try. The moment he narrowed down on thw most probable option it was already to late. He could feel himself being dragged over the ground, losing his balance in the process. How much he would have liked to push against her, he knew that he wouldn't stand a chance. Risking a heavy injury in a training fight was the least smart thing to do.

So he fell, opening his eyes just the see the crimson red glow close to his face.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

"Footwork, my apprentice, is the foundation of the Contention Form."

She raised the hilt to point up. The bloodshine blade followed suit, almost springing ahead of the movement with playful agility. Her eyes traced over the scarlet plasma pillar before turning her attention to Abyss once more. She stepped back, letting the blade fall to a diagonal position at her side.

"Get up."

Her blade extinguished as the Sith Lord clasped her hands behind her back and turned her left shoulder to Abyss, keeping him in the periphery of her eye.

"Proper footwork gives you speed, power, reach, balance, advantage; all the elements needed to place your opponent where you want him. Control your position; control the flow of combat."

Much like when they had talked about the philosophy of the Sith during their practice of Telekinesis, she now made a slow, fluent pace around him.

[member="Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

The fight ended how he guessed it would end. With him on the ground and his master still standing. As the adrenaline and rage of the fight slowly began to fade, Abyss could feel that his body was already exhausted and slightly injured. He lifted himself from the ground, feeling dizzy and nausea as he rose to his feet. Listening to the words of his master he moved his feet to resemble the stance he had seen in the books about form two that he had read. His left foot slightly behind his right one, slightly angled to the side so he would have more stability when performing a stab or swing. In his mind he was marking her any word, placing it with the things he already knew. To show her that he was listening he simply nods one time, his head hanging low to show her his obedience. Her movement was the same than in their last lesson, but this time Abyss eyes were open and he watched. It was as intimidating as he imagined to be.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

"You have read about the Way of the Ysalamiri. This is good. True wielding of the lightsabre is a studious practice; it requires practice, repetition, and most of all discipline."

Some would say discipline was not in the Sith vocabulary. As such some would say the Contention Form could never be mastered by someone so steeped in the dark side of the Force. Darth Ophidia would call them wrong. Discipline had its place in the darkness. It gave form and direction to the wild emotions on which they fed. To be Sith, one had to master oneself.

"As you may have understood; the beginning levels of Makashi focus on defence. It is often more important to survive your fight than to win it quickly."

As she paced behind him, she watched his feet and where he put his weight. While the lowered head was a good sign, it compromised the form.

"Head up, light heels, tuck in your chin, extend your sabre-hand but do not overextend."

Her words, formerly raspy smooth, now turned into a bit of a bark. There was a commanding urgency as she shot corrections at his stance.

[member="Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Abyss listened to her words carefully, adjusting his stance according to her commands. With every little change he could see how it would make the position more effective. It feelt weird to relocate the weight on his feet. He wasn't as heavy and tall than some of the warriors he had fought against, but until now he preferred to trade agility for stability. Now he could see that if he wanted to master form two he would have to be able to move fast and rather avoid or redirect hits instead of blocking them with raw strength. He slowly extended his sword arm, the hilt of his deactivated lightsaber still in his hand. Finally he moved his head up, straightening not only his neck but most of his body what made him seem even taller. He took a deep breath, waiting for his master to continue her lesson.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]